IT TAKES A THIEF 

The thief steals his heart, too.
Update: 02/05/1998 to misc4

	Another noise came from the adoining room.  The faint creak was something 
other than the usual list of sounds he'd grown used to in his apartment.  Two 
years of relative solitude had given him occasion to catalog each and every 
shudder and groan, from his water heater to his cooling television to the 
footsteps of neighbors.  It was none of those.

	Relax, he told himself, and settled more comfortably against his proxy 
playmate.  It's nothing, I'm sure.  And if it's a mad slasher, well, after that 
dream I don't have much reason to live anyway....
From the other room came a thud, followed by a "Shit!"

	Jason sat bolt upright, clinging to the pillow, his heart pounding.  God, 
I was just kidding about the mad slasher thing, he  thought, easing to stand 
next to his bed.  I don't wanna die, not really!  I--I was just kidding about 
that 'no reason to live' stuff!  He took a deep breath, listening intently, and 
put the pillow aside.  A gentle scrape told him that yes, there was undoubtedly 
something moving in his living room, and he knew that whatever it was spoke 
english--the curse words, anyway.  A cold sweat began to form when he fully 
realized that he wasn't alone.  His impulse to call 911 was cut short when he 
realized that his bedside phone was on the blink.  The only working phone, in 
fact, was......in THERE.  In his living room.

	I've gotta do something, he thought, his mind racing through options.  
Whoever that is is gonna come in here soon.  It was mid-morning, and the 
intruder probably thought he was on the job--not realizing he worked overnight.  
I've got surprise on my side, he thought, edging toward the open hall door.  If 
I can shake him up, maybe I can get past him and out.  He considered putting on 
more clothes (he wore only a pair of Garfield boxers), but feared he'd alert the 
intruder by digging through his drawers.  Scratch that, he thought.  Guess I'll 
have to make a dash for freedom au natural.  He moved beside the door, then 
steeled himself.  He peered around the corner, into his living room--It was a 
WOMAN.

	And what a woman!  Exotic, dark-featured and beautiful, with an abundance 
of black hair cascading in waves to her shoulders, framing a face of exquisite 
beauty.  A skintight black bodysuit molded to the contours of her strong, well-
curved body.  Thoughts of Miss January vanished as he watched this goddess-cum-
burglar, securing the power cord on the back of his big-screen TV.  No WAY!, he 
thought, his fear now turning to irritation.  She might be the most stunningly 
beautiful woman I've ever seen, but I'll  be DAMNED if I'm gonna let 'er nab my 
twenty-six inch gateway to the outside world!  Hands on his hips, he stepped out 
into the hallway, at the entrance to the living room.  "Ahem," he said.

	She spun in place, launching to her feet, startled.  Seeing him, she 
smiled and exhaled.  "Shew," she said, putting a hand to her ample bosom.  
"Watch it.  You scared the shit out of me."  "That was sorta the point," he 
said, walking into the living  room.  "Who the hell are you?"  Stopping a few 
feet away, she said, "Let's see," looking around his living room.  A few of his 
items--a CD player, his VCR, and a boom box--were in a pile on a love seat.  
"I'm wearing black, I'm stealing your stuff...."  She shrugged.  "I'm a 
burglar?" "Smartass."  He jerked his thumb toward the door.  "Okay, party's 
over.  Leave the stuff and get out."

"Get out?"  She grinned and walked toward him.  "Why EVER would I do that?"  He 
looked her over once more, ensuring that she didn't have a gun.  "Because if you 
don't, I'll call the cops."  She shook her head.  "Sorry."  Nodding toward the 
phone, she said, "I cut the cable.  I like to work undistracted."

	He became vaguely aware now that she--in her knee boots, with  two-inch 
heels at least--was close to his height in bare feet. Considering that he stood 
at six feet even, he became a little concerned.  "Yeah, well...I don't care.  
Just move it."  "You have no sense of adventure."  She was now standing close, 
her arms crossed, enhancing the full perfection of her breasts.  "By  the way, 
my name's Vanessa."  She held out her hand.  Jason blinked, then shook with her.  
"Charmed.  I'm Jason.   Now--I've got an idea.  Jason."  "An...idea."  "Mmm-hm."  
"Pray tell, what?"

	"Well," she said, tracing between his pecs with her finger, "I just got 
out of prison, and...it's been a while, if you know what I  mean.  For a LOT of 
things, larceny included.  Lifting weights and fingering your cellmate only go 
so far.  Given that you've got the honor of being my first job, I think we 
should make a game of this." "A game?"

	Vanessa nodded.  "Sure."  She leaned closer, allowing her breasts to press 
ever-so-slightly against him.  With a twinkle in her eye, she said, "Let's 
wrestle for your stuff."  Great, he thought.  She's a burglar AND a psycho.  He 
followed the sleek, well-muscled curves of her body with his gaze, and thought, 
well, she's a pretty HOT psycho...."Thanks for the offer," he said, "but it's 
mine already, and--"  "Not the way I see it.  As far as I'm concerned, it's my 
stuff now.  And I'm leaving with it unless you can stop me."  He grimaced.  
"You're serious about this."  Vanessa nodded.  "Look, I really don't want to--"

	She unclasped her belt, and dropped it to one side.  Slowly, seductively, 
with excruciating deliberation, she slid the top of her bodysuit down, peeling 
it to the waist.  Vanessa now stood before him clad only in a thin, skintight 
half-tank, which dipped low to expose her full, firm breasts.  The sight of her 
abundant cleavage, coupled with the rippling curves of her athletic physique, 
stopped him in mid-thought.  He could only stare at the majesty of her beauty as 
she pushed off her boots and shed the catsuit completely, leaving her only in 
the top and a scant Hotskins pelvic thong.  She turned a slow circle before him.  

	"Well?"  Jason swallowed.  Hard. "That's what I thought."  Taking his 
hand, she led him to the center of the living room.  "Now don't be too rough 
with me," she said, sliding forward against him.  "I blemish SO easily."  "Uuuh-
-" was all he could manage.  She giggled, then threw her arms around his body.
The air left his lungs as she applied an bear hug, the pain of the hold making 
him oblivious to all else.  Stars filled his eyes as he pushed against her 
rippling shoulders, prying futilely at the human vise constricting him.  Jason's 
mouth gaped in a desperate attempt to inhale, but her unyielding pressure 
ensured otherwise.  His struggles grew weaker as his awareness flagged.

	Half-concious, he felt himself tumble to the carpet, where his breathing 
returned.  She stood over him, rubbing her chin, then said,  "We'll start small.  
That was for the blender."  Jason drew some ragged breaths, sucking in sweet 
lungfuls of fair.  "H-hey," he said, staggering to his feet.  His body trembled, 
still recovering from the surprising power of her attack.  "You got lucky.  You 
surprised me."  "Really?  Okay."  She nodded toward the love seat.  "This'll be 
for the CD player.  Ready?"

	As soon as he nodded, Vanessa lunged and tackled him.  They spilled to the 
floor, she on top, keeping him between her legs. She trapped his wrists in one 
hand and pinned them back behind him, then coiled her thighs around his trunk.  
His disbelief was in direct proportion to his pain:  this woman was unimaginably 
strong!  Her arms had put him out almost immediately, and her legs were easily 
twice as powerful!  She used her free hand to caress his face, grinning down at 
him.  Jason knew she wasn't exerting anywhere near her full strength as he 
writhed and jerked beneath her. "Oh, come on, Jason," she said.  "Act like you 
mean it.   That's a five CD-changer with oversampling and bass boost!  You 
aren't even putting up a fight."  His intended defiant response emerged as an 
"Uungh...."

	"Well, kiss it goodbye," she said, unlocking him.  Kneeling over him, she 
said, "Maybe you should spend some time in the joint, Jason.  It'd give you a 
chance to pump up a little, like I did.  Of course, I've always been a little 
stronger than normal...."  She chewed her lower lip.  "Okay, a LOT stronger, but 
that's kinda academic now, isn't it?"  Vanessa arose, and tried to pull him to 
his feet.  He managed to sit upright, but failed to get further.  "Boy, you need 
to hit the weights, guy.  You're in great shape, but you need a little size.  
Oh, well, it'll just make things more fun."  Looking around the living room, she 
said, "Next comes your CD's.  You've got some Billie Holiday that I'm DYING to 
hear."  With that, she pounced upon him again, and trapped his face in her 
cleavage.  Holding him steady with her legs, she smothered him with her breasts, 
cutting off his air, until he went limp in her arms.  

	After a quick revival to consciousness, the contest resumed.  Vanessa took 
his Sega with a head scissors, and his juicemaker and silverware followed from a 
grapevine bodypress.  She used a bow-and-arrow to secure the dining room set, 
and his love seat was hers following a figure-four headvise.  In the course of 
half-an-hour, she systematically gained possession of every item he owned, 
leaving him exhausted and helpless before her.   Somewhere along the way, she 
claimed his underwear, adding nudity to his list of humiliations. Sitting 
astride his chest, his arms trapped to his sides, she ran her fingers along the 
four-head VCR she'd taken in the second-to-last fall.  "This is sweet.  You have 
great taste in electronics.  You've got a remote for this, right?" "Urrrk," he 
groaned.

	"I'll take that as a 'yes'."  Putting it to one side, she looked down at 
him and said, "You've been a good sport about all of this.  Some guys'd be 
screaming and yelling, but you're nice and placid.  Of course, that might be 
from exhaustion, but I'll give you the benefit of the doubt."  She ran her hands 
down her body, sliding them over her breasts, and along the flat, ridged muscles 
of her abdomen.  Her skin was coated with a light sheen of sweat, which gave her 
a luminous quality.  "Well, I guess there's just one more thing to wrestle for."  
His eyes widened in terror.  This is it, he thought.  She'll kill me for sure 
this time.

	She pulled her top up and away, exposing her breasts, then slid to lay 
over him.  Curling her arms around his neck, she said, "You know what that is, 
don't you?"  Jason shook his head weakly.  He didn't care.  He was going to die, 
probably for a candy dish or something else he'd forgotten about. "YOU, silly," 
she said, and touched his nose.  "M--me?"  Vanessa nodded.  "Yeah.  I want you, 
all to myself.  And I figured I'd save the best for last."  "But...but I--"

	"Hush.  Now this'll be a special match.  And it starts like this."  She 
lowered to him, and brushed her lips against his. His look of stunned surprise 
made her giggle.  "If that shocked you, you're gonna LOVE this."  Vanessa gave 
him a crushing kiss, her tongue probing his mouth, her fingers combing through 
his hair as she worked.  The kiss, coupled with her gorgeous, mostly-naked body 
atop his, brought his erection back at full strength.  "Well, well," she said, 
tapping his penis.  "Looks like Mr. Happy's decided to join us.  Guess I'll have 
to wrestle him, too."  Grinning, she raised up slightly, and pulled the bottom 
of her thong to one side.  Slowly, carefully, eyes half-closed, she took him 
within her, his member enveloped in her softness.

	Vanessa began slowly at first, easing up and down and side to side, 
allowing him to recover enough strength to move his hands onto her body.  As he 
kneaded her breasts, molding and stroking them, she began to gyrate with furious 
vigor.  Her shrill screams echoed through the room as she moved, oblivious to 
all but her pursuit of pleasure, her pent-up lust surfacing with a vengeance.  
Jason's own orgasms were the most intense he'd ever known, fiery pleasure 
wracking his body as his juices gushed into her.  His final climax sent him 
shuddering into unconciousness.

	When he awoke, he was in bed, with her lying beside and against him.  She 
was tracing circles around his nipples with her forefinger.  "Welcome back," she 
said.  "I was beginning to worry." "Oooh," he moaned as the fatigue of his 
encounter settled over him like a lead weight.  "It wasn't a dream." "Nope.  Do 
you mind?"   Her deep brown eyes studied him as he weighed his response.  
Despite her intrusion into his home, and the rough play that had ensued, he had 
to admit that this strikingly beautiful woman had made a breaking and entering 
the most thrilling experience of his life.  As sore and exhausted as he was, he 
couldn't imagine enjoying life without this shady amazon.  "Don't go," he said.   
She raised her eyebrows.  "Hm?" "D-don't go.  You can have the stuff, and 
whatever else you want.  Just don't go.  I--I...."

	"Jason," she whispered, lowering to nip at his ear with her teeth.  "What 
was the last thing we wrestled for?"  "Me."  "Right.  And we can safely say that 
I won, right?" He nodded.  "That said, I'm afraid you're my property now.  And 
that means being mine in every conceivable way.  So I'm not going anywhere.  And 
neither are you."  A tingling elation came over him.  A day that had begun as a 
typical exercise in frustration had become a rollercoaster, first of fear, and 
then of the most all-consuming elation he'd ever known.  The warm, powerful 
presence beside him had seized control of his life, and he found that he could 
conceive of nothing more desirable.